


I Can Feel Ghosts and Ghouls Wrapping My Head

by haunted_by_catholic_guilt



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Panic Attacks, Self-Hatred, Sick Character, Sickfic, Trans Martin Blackwood, Vomiting, unsafe binding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-18
Updated: 2020-10-18
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:22:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27073405
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/haunted_by_catholic_guilt/pseuds/haunted_by_catholic_guilt
Summary: He couldn’t breathe, he felt the air get trapped in his throat, and he was faintly aware of tears behind his eyes.His lungs were being crushed by the weight of everything, and he knew he definitely should not be binding but he also wasn’t exactly willing to be exposed like that, especially in the archives, if he was honest with himself he’d been wearing it way too long at a time already and may or may not have fallen asleep in it a few times.
Relationships: Martin Blackwood & Sasha James, Martin Blackwood & Sasha James & Tim Stoker, Martin Blackwood & Tim Stoker, Sasha James & Tim Stoker
Comments: 4
Kudos: 74





	I Can Feel Ghosts and Ghouls Wrapping My Head

**Author's Note:**

> TW UNSAFE BINDING, PANIC ATTACKS, AND SELF HATE

When he heard the coughing from the office next door that morning, he felt his heart freeze.

Not only out of worry for Tim, who really did not sound well, but out of, well, fear.

Martin was scared.

He couldn’t get sick, but he also needed to take care of his coworker, his friend.

So he did.

After Tim finally went home, Martin was exhausted, having not slept well the night before or any night in a while, if he was honest, and then trying to take care of everyone, he was plain tired.

Sleeping at the archives wasn’t the easiest thing.

It was cold and eerily quiet, and if he was still enough he swore he could hear the knocking on the door still.

But when he woke up the next morning and felt a small tickle at the back of his throat, he felt his heart hammer in his chest and the muscles in his back seize.

He brushed it off, must have slept weird or dust, or something.

Anything except getting sick.

He made tea, and stayed away from Sasha and Jon that day, better safe than sorry.

The day passed on slowly, and by the time it was done, he was about ready to pass out where he stood. 

He went through the repeated, dull motions of the evening, the microwaved noodles were tasteless, and he could hardly eat half of it before he tossed it into  
the trash and went to bed, despite the early hour.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was around noon the next day that it all started to go downhill.

Tim was back, and seemed more or less recovered, a little tired, and seemed like he was still somewhat stuffy, but didn’t seem too miserable.

Martin, however, was miserable.

He couldn’t breathe, he felt the air get trapped in his throat, and he was faintly aware of tears behind his eyes.

His lungs were being crushed by the weight of everything, and he knew he definitely should not be binding but he also wasn’t exactly willing to be exposed like that, especially in the archives, if he was honest with himself he’d been wearing it way too long at a time already and may or may not have fallen asleep in it a few times.

The next thing he knew he was shaking, and he could feel tears in his eyes, and he immediately pushed himself off his chair, not caring about the noise he was making, yet still caring about how the others saw him.

He made his way to the bathroom and as soon as the door to the stall shut, he collapsed to the ground, chest heaving with both sobs and pain and he felt his stomach begin to flip inside him.

He knew it was just a cold, that’s all Tim had, that’s not what was bothering him.

A panic attack.

Before he knew it he was heaving over the toilet because he couldn’t breathe and it was all too much, he felt the germs running through his body and-

There was a voice calling his name.

He couldn’t decipher who it was but they were calling his name and here he was, being weak and selfish, couldn’t even handle a little cold on his own.

They knocked on his stall and he was able to breathe and finally processed who it was.

Sasha.

Of course, it was Sasha, perfect, loving Sasha.

He cursed himself for his bitterness and cleared his throat.

“Y-yeah ‘m alright”  
  
He heard Sasha sigh from outside the stall, and she crouched to the floor outside of it.

“Martin, love, I know you aren’t, can you open the stall for me, sweetheart?”

He sobbed and curled into himself, trying so hard to get away from her, to let her go and enjoy herself.

She predictably did not. 

He heard someone else open the door to the bathroom, and heard Tim’s low-voice from outside of the stall, before Sasha stood up, but didn’t leave the bathroom, and Tim took her place outside on the other side of the door.

“Hey Marto, what’s wrong?”

Tim’s voice was still hoarse from his illness, and it managed to make Martin cry harder, and Tim sighed.

Disappointing everyone again.

God, you really aren’t a man.

“Martin, open this door.”

Tim was being firm yet he still was kind, and the tone of his voice made Martin feel safe, so he unlocked the stall door, and as soon as it opened he regretted it, seeing Tim and Sasha’s concerned faces were too much, and he felt his chest tighten more if even possible, and he swore that his vision began to darken.

He felt himself start to sway a little, before Tim’s strong hand gripped his shoulder and pulled the bigger man towards his chest and tried to force him to relax, but Martin couldn’t breathe and he was sure if he relaxed he’d only make it worse.

His sight was fading and he heard Tim and Sasha calling his name, voices full of worry but before he knew it, the world was dark.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Tim was, understandably, freaked out.

Martin was pale and shaking against his chest, completely limp and his cheeks a bright red.

This must have been the same cold he had, but Tim wasn’t sure this was even a cold anymore. 

Sasha crouched next to Martin, her hand on his face, confirming what they both already knew.

“He’s burning up”

Tim hummed, as Sasha stood up to fill a small cup of water in the sink and wet a paper towel, before placing it on his forehead, and they waited until he woke up.

When he did, he was predictably disoriented, yet somehow still rejecting their help, his breath coming in a harsh wheeze.

“Martin, love, I need you to drink this alright?”

Sasha pressed the water to his lips, and he took small sips, but wasn’t able to take more than a few sips before he was taken by another coughing fit.

Tim winced at the sound of it, and propped Martin up more and rubbed his back until the fit subsided.

Martin was wearing his binder.

He sighed and looked at Sasha, who was also worriedly holding Martin up.

“I’m going to go grab one of his hoodies and some sweatpants, do you want to try and talk to him a little” 

He really hoped she was understanding what he was saying, and it seemed like she did, so he stood up and left the bathroom leaving Sasha alone with their sick friend.

“Hey Martin, you’re wearing your binder and that can’t be comfortable when you’re already so sick, Tim is grabbing your hoodie, can you take it off when he gets back?”

Martin was hardly processing what she was saying, she was sure of it, but he still vigorously shook his head when she said this, and curled even further into himself.

“Martin, please you’re making yourself sicker by wearing it, we will both leave the room when you change, but you need to take it off.”

He froze for a second but nodded, still holding himself so tightly that she was worried he’d hurt himself, when someone knocked on the door, but only as a warning as it opened before she could say anything.

It opened to reveal Jon, standing awkwardly in the frame, with a blanket, first-aid kit, and a glass of water.

“I- I brought these? Tim told me Martin was ill so I thought..”

He walked in and handed her the water and first aid kit before awkwardly wrapping the blanket around Martin’s shaking shoulders.

“Thank you, Jon, it’s very sweet of you.”

Jon nodded at the same time Tim was walking back in, Jon awkwardly backed out after telling them to take care of Martin.

“Alright, here Martin, when you’re done changing do you wanna come out and you can come back to mine for the night?”

Martin hesitated a bit but nodded, not having the energy to put up a fight.

“Alright, sounds good. Sasha, can you go get his things and we can go?”

Sasha nodded, and both she and Tim got up and left the bathroom, leaving Martin to change.

Martin was, truthfully, mortified by the whole ordeal, being so weak and sick, he was pathetic.

He sighed, he knew he needed to take off his binder but he wasn’t even sure if he could.

So he put on the oversized hoodie and sweatpants, not bothering to take off the binder before he took a second to try and breathe before leaving the bathroom to find Tim and Sasha waiting.

He nodded and held the bundle of clothing closer to his chest.

“Tim, it’s really alright, I can stay here, I don’t want to be a bother.”

Tim sighed and set his hand on Martin's shoulder.

“Martin, you’re never a bother and I doubt you want to stay here and honestly I don’t want you to, I know how cold it can get here.”

Martin nodded once and followed Sasha and Tim to the car, before huddling in the backseat.

He closed his eyes and the next thing he knew he was being shaken awake in a garage, looking up to see Sasha.

He stepped out of the car and tried to ignore the black that overtook his vision and how he wasn’t sure he even knew how to breathe.

Sasha seemed to notice and she wrapped a hand around his arm, and made sure he didn’t fall over as they made their way into Tim’s flat.

Sasha led him to the couch and honestly, he couldn’t be more excited, he could feel his lungs crack with every shallow breath and he very much needed to sit down.

Sasha’s cold hand pressed to his face and he was brought to awareness that someone was talking to him.

“Martin, are you with us?”

It broke Martin all over again and he wasn’t even sure why he was crying, but he did feel the couch sink and himself get pulled into someone’s chest as sobs ripped through him.

“Oh it’s alright love, you’re okay, don’t worry sweetheart, you’re going to be okay.”

She was rubbing his back and he knew he was caught.

Making everything more difficult for everyone again.

“Martin, you need to take off your binder.”

She sounded disappointed, not mad but just so done with him.

He hated it.

So he did what he did best, he apologized and apologized, begging for forgiveness.

“Martin, Martin, shh you have no reason to be apologizing you didn’t do anything love.”

Sasha was rubbing his back again, and calmly speaking in his ear.

He let her lead him into the bathroom and sat on the closed toilet, where after she left, he took off his hoodie and very carefully took off his binder and he felt himself sigh in relief as his ribs thanked him.

He really, really wished he could have kept it on.

He put his hoodie back on, praying that he would still be hidden enough, before opening the door, actively avoiding the mirror when he stood.

Sasha was outside of the door and he nodded, hoping she wouldn’t question him more, and they made their way back to the couch where he slipped the binder into the bag of his Sasha had grabbed.

Tim was waiting with tea and a pile of blankets, all ready for a cuddle party and what he had previously called ‘loving Martin hours.’

Martin sat in the corner, where Tim and Sasha then lightly bullied him into the middle and covered him in a blanket before sitting on either side of him.

“I- I don’t- I don’t deserve this.”

Tim made a noise of disagreement before lightly pulling Martin closer to him, hoping he could let himself relax.

“Come on, Martin, you’d do the same for us, in fact, you have, let us take care of you.”

A few minutes passed of Tim running his hands through Martin’s curls before he said anything.

“I-I don’t like getting sick. It’s just... it’s a fear I guess? When I- when I was a kid I always had to take care of everything and everyone and I didn’t have time to be sick.”

Tim stopped his repetitive motion, that was definitely the most he’d shared about his life and he was sure he screwed it up.

Making a mess again, you waste of space.

“It’s alright Martin, you don’t need to take care of everything anymore, let us take care of you.”

Martin nodded, he was tired and he was in pain, so he let himself be lulled to sleep by the comfort surrounding him.

**Author's Note:**

> my tumblr is haunted-by-catholic-guilt


End file.
